Chapter 34
My uncle Oliver and his associate Bill take a seat in the meeting room where I have been waiting with Emerson. By their solemn expressions, I already know I won’t like the results of his internal audit.
“Oliver, what can you tell us?” I ask, my knee bouncing under the table.
He adjusts his tie, an uncomfortable glance passing between him and Bill. “I brought you both in today to discuss my findings of the audit.” The two of them have been here for a week and a half going over every aspect of the business with a fine-tooth comb.
“Your initial thoughts were correct, money is disappearing. I’ve discovered what I think are two ghost employee contracts. Substantial sums of money being paid into two different accounts, as if the people are employees of this hotel. But before I take it any further, I need to make sure my findings are true.”
“What are their names?” asks Emerson.
“Shelana Caldwell and M.H. Caldwell,” says Bill, reading from his notes.
“Are they employees here, Em?” I ask my sister, still not sure of all our employees’ names myself yet.
She shakes her head, looking confused. “No, neither of them ring a bell.”
I turn my attention back to Oliver, pleased he’s on to something. This could explain a lot. “Why would they be getting paid?”
Em shrugs, and I rack my brain trying to work it out. If they’re not current employees, why would we be paying them? Was there a compensation claim that I’m not considering? It wouldn’t be classified as wages, though. “How much are these two getting paid annually?”
He rolls his lips, looking over his figures. “Shelana has been paid $100,000 every year for at least the last ten years, and the other name received two separate payments of $210,000, both in the weeks prior to your father’s passing. Neither of them appeared on any payroll reports.”
I blink back at him. I think I’m in shock. “Why didn’t I pick up on this sooner?” This is more than a ghost wage; this could be the threat our family lawyer was talking about. Whoever this is could have been blackmailing our father.
“You spend all your time in this office. Do you know the names of your staff?” Emerson says softly.
“Well, no, but I hardly think that’s important.”
“Our daddy would have known every single employee on a first-name basis because he took the time to. His employees were important to him.”
I hate the way she still feels the need to celebrate him. “Our father also left us in financial ruin. His management style is hardly one I aspire to,” I snip.
“I agree. All I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to get to know the people who work for you, show your face around the place a bit more. The staff appreciate it, and when your reputation is a little shaky, them seeing you’re still their pillar of strength will help.”
“I have to say I agree with your sister. Running a business of this size is more than just being good at the numbers, son. They want a leader who they can aspire to be.”
I nod, agreeing with him. He knows people aren’t my thing, it’s why I worked as the CFO for him. I didn’t have to manage them or really ever work with anyone but him. I can see where they are both coming from. If I want The Alexander to be successful, I need to take it on board—and I will once we work this shit out. “Who signed these contracts?”
His eyes meet mine in a silent message. “Your father.”
I glance at Emerson. What does this mean? Why would he be paying huge sums of money to someone who doesn’t work here? I have a sinking suspicion. There is only one reason I can think of that he would be paying a woman who doesn’t work for him. She’s his mistress, the one he was having an affair with for years if she is the same one he was with when Mama found him. The prick and his infidelity are still haunting me from the grave. “Is there an address on this contract?” I ask, running a hand through my hair, trying to work out what to do now that we have this information. The only thing I can think of is I need to see her face to face. My father is dead and gone, but she knows the truth, and someone is going to give me an explanation for all of this.
Oliver takes a note and scribbles down something, handing it to me. I stand in a rush, adrenaline pumping through me.
“Where are you going, Brody?” Em asks, her voice shaky.
“To find out who this woman is and why she thinks she’s entitled to claim a salary when she clearly doesn’t work here.”
“Be careful, son, you might be opening a can of worms,” Oliver warns me, and I can tell by his expression he has the same hunch as me. He knows what my father was up to.
I glance back at them, rage building inside of me. “I think it’s time. This might just be who is trying to bring us down, especially those two large amounts right before his death. We know someone was threatening his life; maybe this has something to do with it. If we don’t work out what’s really going on here and face it, it won’t matter how hard we work here. It all could be snatched away from us.”
“Don’t go alone. I’ll come with you.” Em comes after me, catching up by my side. I glance at her, wanting to tell her to stay here. Who knows what I’m going to find out today. The big brother in me wants to protect her from it, at least until I know how bad it is. But she has as much right to know what’s going on as I do. It’s time we both know the truth, all of it.
When we arrive at the address, we drive up a dusty driveway to find a rundown shack sitting on a farming property just out of town. My heart sinks even further. How do we face this woman?
Em’s hand comes to my arm. “Are you okay?” she asks sweetly.
“Em, you know this woman is probably his mistress and out of guilt or something he’s been paying her wages years after she left employment for him. If she ever even worked at The Alexander.”
She rolls her eyes, her irritation with me palpable. “I’m not as naive as you think, Brody. That’s exactly what I was thinking when Uncle Oliver mentioned the connection. Don’t just go in there and throw a hissy fit, you don’t know what the situation is. Let’s keep a level head and talk to her. I’m sure this can all be worked out calmly.”
I hop out of my truck, looking over the small rundown house. For someone who has been receiving a decent wage for the last ten years, she certainly hasn’t put it to good use. This place is a dump. I knock at the door and wait, with Em close by my side. There is a car in the driveway, so I assume she’s home or someone who could point us in the right direction is.
We wait but no one comes. The front door is one with a window to the side, and Emerson peers in. She gasps. “Brody, you need to check this out.”
I move to where she’s looking in. All I can see is the hallway leading to a living room of sorts. The inside of the place is kept better than the outside. It’s neat and tidy, men’s shoes neatly lined up under a sideboard, a brown brimmed hat on a hook. But it’s the image of three people on a family portrait that has the hairs on my arms stand on end. It’s our father with a blonde lady who looks an awful lot like a younger version of Lana. There is also a little boy in the picture, he would be about ten.
“The boy looks like you,” Emerson whispers.
“And the woman has to be Lana. Do you think Lana is Shelana?” I ask, a cold shiver running over my skin. “She could be the same woman Mama walked in on him with. And if she is, that’s why she’s been receiving payments from The Alexander all this time. She must have stopped working for him, and he kept paying her out of guilt.”
Em’s calm fa?ade has shifted, and she looks from the photo to me, her body trembling. I’m not sure if she’s about to burst into tears or start a riot. “Or maybe she threatened to tell his beloved town his secrets and he was paying to silence her. Bet it’s her who’s leaking all these stories to the Prescotts as well. I told you the bitch was shady.”
We stare through the window, lost in our thoughts. So, he did have another child. The thought makes me feel sick. Em was right all along. Why didn’t he tell us about him?
“Why did he marry her last summer? That’s what makes no sense to me. And who’s the boy who looks like you?”
“My guess the M.H. Caldwell who was paid the larger amounts?”
“If that kid grew up in this town, one of us would have to know who they are. I wonder how old that photo is.” She stares through the window, squinting to get a better look.
My blood runs cold as it dawns on me. “I know who it is. Mason.”
She stares back at me, wide-eyed. “No!”
I nod, knowing it has to be. “Since I’ve been home, I’ve had two separate people mistake me for him. And there was that guy back at the hotel who called me Caldwell. I didn’t piece it together before all of this, but now it makes perfect sense.”
I see the second she realizes I’m right. “I can see it now. He’s our half-brother. It’s him, for sure. Why hasn’t anyone told us?”
My phone rings, Noah’s name lighting up the screen. “Noah,” I tell Em so she knows why I have to take the call.
“We have a security issue. Jim’s just informed me the fourth-floor security cameras have been short-circuited.” He talks quietly, and I wonder where he is.
“Because of the building updates?” I ask, hoping to God that’s all it is.
“Parker’s building crew isn’t working today. Something’s not right. I’m heading up to check it out, but I think you better get back here.”
“Do you know where Gisele is?” I ask, feeling suddenly panicked. I know she was at work today.
“Down in the conference room setting up a wedding. I just talked to her.”
“Em and I are on our way back now, but keep me posted.” I hang up the call and immediately call Gisele to check on her. I know she must be crazy busy, but I just need to hear her voice. The phone rings and rings, but she doesn’t answer. I’m sure it’s because she’s working and has it on silent, but I won’t feel better until I check in with her.
Today has me questioning everything. It feels like everything that’s happened since I moved back to Deception Bay is all coming back to Mason. I don’t trust him, and I’m sure that’s him in the image we just saw with our father. He has to be our father’s kid. I know exactly who can give the answers I need. This time he’s not wrestling his way out of it.